The STEAM Team
by Inky-Paws
Summary: Arthur knew he'd come to regret insulting that American girl's intelligence when she offered to help him with his project. He also knew that he wouldn't be able to pass his classes without help. When he makes an appeal to the S.T.E.A.M. Laboratories for aid, he realizes just how bad that mistake of his was and just how badly karma would end up ricocheting. Smart! Nyo! America.
1. Chapter 1

I know, I know. I really shouldn't be starting another story when I've already got one up and running, and little time to spare. *sighs* I'm very sorry. This idea just came to me though, and I felt an urge to act upon it. Plus, school and stress has been piling up lately and I've been completely lacking inspiration for Stars in Dystopia. I'm sorry.

Warning: Rated T for language.

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. I mean, who do you think I am? A Japanese man named Hidekaz Himaruya? I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you've got the wrong person, buddy. I am a broke student. And believe me, you do now want me to own Hetalia.

* * *

 **The S.T.E.A.M. Team**

 _Chapter 1_

* * *

Arthur knew that he'd come to regret insulting that girl's intelligence when she offered to help him on his final project.

He regretted the words that had come out of his mouth from the moment that he said them, and had seen her turn away on her heel, obviously upset, and disappear from that library like a ghost in the wind.

To be fair, she had disrupted his quiet area of study. He had been trying to gather information for his final project, and she had disturbed that peaceful serenity, chattering about how she could help him if he'd like.

He'd recoiled and sprung back in an instant, as if a cockroach had scrambled frantically over his boot, and spat out that he'd be surprised if a "loud, ignorant, American like herself" could help him with 3rd grade multiplication, let alone college-level engineering in robotics and AI, crushing that little roach under his foot.

She'd pulled back, hurt, the bitter slap and sting of his words having hit her hard, and she retreated from that scene quicker than a spooked horse and quieter than a mouse.

Which brought him to now, after the guilt had set in, sitting in his chair, the sudden spike of adrenaline worn off, staring at his books, and chewing on the end of his pencil eraser nervously.

He did need the help, not that he'd ever admit it.

"Yo! Yo! Are you even listening to me?" His attention snapped forward, and he inwardly groaned, staring at the loud Pole who had no sense of what a "library's silence" was meant to sound like.

It certainly wasn't supposed to include yelling.

"Keep it down won't you?" He tried to bite back the sarcastic, sharp edge to his words, but failed in trying.

Feliks frowned down at Arthur, but sighed and lowered his voice as the nearby, now-disturbed students glared at him.

"Why didn't you accept her help? I thought you said that you needed help with you final project?"

"Because I wouldn't put past that American idiot not knowing her left side from her right, let alone being able to help me in _this_ -" Arthur swept his hand towards his scattered, fruitless research as he hissed under his breath.

Feliks choked on air.

"American idiot-" He coughed mid-laugh, then looked up at Arthur.

"Please tell me you're joking."

"No. Why would I be?"

"Good god, Arthur, I get that you're still fairly new here, what with transferring from a school in the UK to a school here in America, but have you seriously never heard about this girl before?"

"No. I've seen her around the campus before, mostly being loud and annoying and just plain _distracting_. I mean, does she even go here? And why, should I have heard of her?"

Feliks dropped his face into his hands. "Right. Okay. You know what, you'll just have to learn the hard way."

Arthur cocked his head at his friend curiously. "Learn what the hard way?"

Feliks sighed, obviously upset. "You'll have to see. So, where are you going to go for help?"

"I'm thinking the S.T.E.A.M. Laboratories. They sometimes help students with high enough marks, right?"

Feliks choked on air again, coughing. "Okay. Have fun with that." His voice held a slight sharp edge, lacking whatever humor and valley-girl accent that it had pertained earlier.

Arthur stared, confused. "Is there something that I should know?"

"Nope. You'll learn on your own. Look, when you go to the laboratory, ask for Diana specifically, you know, that Lithuanian friend of mine that I introduced you to a few weeks ago? Ask for Diana, tell her that Feliks sends his regards, and she might be able to help you. Good luck." Shooting one last glance and a nervous cough, Feliks strutted out of the library, leaving Arthur to stare confused at the spot where he had once stood.

. . .

Arthur stood in front of the doors of the S.T.E.A.M. Laboratories, questioning whether or not to go in after the nervous manner that Feliks had exhibited.

Luckily, or perhaps unluckily enough for him, the doors answered that question easily enough for him as the blonde-haired girl from earlier swung open the doors. She was wearing a white lab coat stitched with colorful Tetris-looking blocks piled on top of eachother, her name tag glinting in the light that the laboratory was emitting.

 _Amelia Foster Jones._

Her gaze meeting his, she stopped, stock-still, frozen like a deer in the headlights, before she backtracked, turned on her heel angrily, and slammed the doors in his face, her long braid whipping around and swinging after her.

He stood outside the now-locked laboratory doors, completely numb.

Oh god.

He had insulted Amelia-fucking-Jones.

The Amelia Jones.

He was fucking screwed.

* * *

A/N: *laughs happily* You know that exhilaration and the high you sometimes get after you finish writing something? The on-top-of-the-world-I-can-do-anything high? Yeah, that's what I'm on right now. Anyway, onto the actual notes...

 **REALLY IMPORTANT NOTE ABOUT THIS STORY:** Unlike Stars in Dystopia, I have no idea where I'm going with this. I have not outlined the plot ahead of time. This is literally something that I had the idea for today and decided to act upon because I had access to my laptop within a hand's reach. As such, you might see a lot of editing of chapters in-between updates as I gain a more solid idea of where I want to go with this. Apologies in advance!

For those of you who don't know, S.T.E.A.M. refers to Science, Technology, Engineering, Arts, and Math. Similar to S.T.E.M, the only difference between S.T.E.A.M. and S.T.E.M. is that S.T.E.A.M. includes the arts while S.T.E.M. does not.

In this AU, I aged America and Canada up into being 21 instead of 19. Because of this age difference, I decided to give America super-long hair that is normally pulled back into a braid that typically stretches down below her hips, just because I could. And also because I like the idea of America having super-long braids.

In this AU, America's middle name is Foster. This was the middle name that Hima originally intended for her to have, but he left it open-ended, so sometimes people opt to use Franklin, Freedom, hell, even Fuck as his/her middle name, but I just went with Foster here.

In this AU, I'm going to be portraying both America and Canada as basically super-geniuses. You'll see more of this later. I'll be trying to still keep them both in character though, America in particular, the only difference is that I'm going out of my way as to portray them (once again, America in particular) as smart, not stupid.

Also, this was inspired by a visit that I made to a nearby Steammaker facility that I visited on a trip because I'm going to be participating in a prescore-thing on behalf of my school along with a few other students. I'll probably talk more about the actual facility more in later A/Ns, but all you need to know for now is that the laboratory is modeled off of the actual one that I visited.

As always, please leave a review if you liked this. I'm begging ya'll here. I need feedback. When I'm writing something, there is nothing more discouraging than looking at the traffic graph and seeing how many people are reading my stories but how little people are reviewing. Honestly, it terrifies me when I don't get a lot of reviews because my mind's instant response is to wonder if I'm doing something wrong, if people don't like my story, or if people just don't care enough about it to review. Nothing is more discouraging, especially when the visitor numbers pile up and the gap between the visitor to review ratio grows into an even bigger rift. So, please, please review, because there is nothing more humanly discouraging than a lack of feedback from the author's audience. I'm sorry for the long-ass tirade.

And on topic of Stars in Dystopia: I'm trying. I have ideas, but no inspiration to actually write it. I've suffered various breakdowns, multiple panic attacks, and now I completely lack the energy to update that story. I'm trying, I swear, but updates for that will be slow and sporadic but occurring. I'm so sorry. I started this story to try and recover my actual will to write, which I'm kind of doing- kind of. *sighs unhappily* Once again, I'm so sorry. On a brighter note, I am on Thanksgiving break right now, so I'll probably have more time to update and hopefully will have the opportunity to do so. But thank you for putting up with my bullshit! I know I'm a shitty person. I'm trying to work on it.


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks to Cone of Depression and to the two guests for reviewing!

* * *

 **The S.T.E.A.M. Team**

 _Chapter 2_

* * *

Arthur stared half-numbly up at his ceiling, his roommate, Feliks, laying on his back on the bed beside Arthur's, his phone in his hand.

"I cannot fucking believe I insulted Amelia-fucking-Jones. Of all fucking Americans I insult, of course I insult the Amelia Jones. Of-fucking-course."

Feliks looked up at Arthur indifferently, half-amused and half-done with Arthur's tirade.

"See? This is why you don't judge a book by its cover. Tell me how you didn't know who Amelia Jones is, by the way?"

Arthur groaned and dropped his face into his hands. "I'd heard the name. Of course I did. I mean, it's Amelia-fucking-Jones. I just didn't know what she looked like. If anything, I wasn't expecting her to look like- well, _that_."

Feliks shot Arthur another bored stare before he scrolled through the wikipedia article that he'd pulled up on Amelia Foster Jones and her brother, Matthew Williams.

"Amelia Foster Jones," he read aloud, "twin sister to Matthew Williams, both are the children of a wealthy Virginian family. Together, the two siblings are affectionally referred to as "The Steamers." Growing up, they were always fascinated by the sciences. Because of their extraordinarily high IQs, the siblings skipped multiple grades, graduated high school at the young age of thirteen, and almost immediately after was accepted into Gakuen College. Amelia Jones and her brother graduated from college when they were nineteen, both with Master of Sciences Graduate degrees, Jones after majoring in Mathematics and General Science and minoring in Physics, Williams after majoring in Engineering and minoring in Industrial Engineering and Computer Engineering. Additionally, Jones also took side courses in Geosciences, Earth Sciences, Computer Science, Chemistry, Nuclear Engineering, Astronomy, Engineering Mechanics, Aerospace Engineering, and Biology, because as she put it when asked by the news, 'I was fucking crazy in college.' Meanwhile, Williams also tackled a much more understandable amount of side courses college: Chemical Engineering, Nuclear Engineering, and Engineering Mechanics."

Feliks took a deep breath before continuing.

"Almost immediately after graduating, Jones and Williams utilized the money that they inherited from their parents after they died and established the S.T.E.A.M. Laboratory, with the intended purpose, 'to take any idea, no matter how wild, how crazy, how insane and inane it may seem, and to transform that idea into reality and bring life to it, because once upon a time, the idea of man going to the moon was also wild and crazy.' The side quest of the laboratory is to promote education in S.T.E.A.M. and S.T.E.M. subjects. The range of the program almost immediately exploded, the hight of the explosion being when the S.T.E.A.M. laboratory partnered with Gakuen College to 'serve as a model of a school promoting S.T.E.A.M. and S.T.E.M. subjects, and to serve as a veritable hunting ground for students seeking knowledge in these core subjects.' Students at Gakuen can seek help their improving their grades new or can seek internships there, although intern positions are highly rare and highly desired."

"When asked about S.T.E.A.M. Laboratory and the processes it utilizes, Jones responded that she typically figures out the sciences of things that they're trying to put together, she and Williams collaborate to draw up the blueprints of whatever it is that they're trying to build, and then Williams will physically bring those blueprints to life. She responded that, 'Mattie is the hands and I am the brain, and together, we are one magician who can work magic by putting their skill sets together.' Those machines, ideas that they put together have proven to be veritable and rich in potential. S.T.E.A.M. Laboratory has produced some of the most futuristic, modern innovations in science, and has partnered with major corporations to produce wide varieties of things, from cures to debilitating illnesses to robots and AI. They have created inventions that have on more than one occasion been sold to the American Marines, Navy, and Armed Forces for training purposes, and have partnered with quite a few government agencies in the past to produce technology that we still are waiting to receive word on. In the more recent years, the S.T.E.A.M. Laboratory has established a biannually occurring S.T.E.A.M. festival based in the United States that attracts students interested in sciences, technology, engineering, arts, and math everywhere."

"Interestingly, the last IQ test that Jones and Williams had was one that they had when they were still children, and they haven't been interested in having one since. When asked why, Williams replied that, 'IQ tests tend to not be the most accurate in estimating someone's intelligence because of all of the factors that must be taken into consideration. Typically, an IQ test could measure someone's intelligence just as well as it could measure just how good one is at IQ tests.' However, when they were tested, Jones had an IQ of 215 while Williams had an IQ of 208."

"Now, as of 2017, the twins are now 21 and have co-patented over 374 patents in their own right... blah blah blah blah."

Feliks kicked at the bed, bored. He scrolled to the end of the page quickly.

"The rest of the article just basically repeats what I already said, just in more detail." He locked eyes with Arthur.

"Look. You insulted one of the gems of Gakuen, a Steamer, possibly one of the smartest women in the world. I don't fucking care what the excuse is, you definitely should have known what Amelia Foster Jones looked like."

"But I-"

"But no. You are going to major in Engineering Mechanics and minor in the _lovely_ minor of Mechatronics, Robotics, and Automation Engineering as well as Artificial Intelligence, and you are in your Sophomore year of College. I don't care if you transferred to this school at the beginning of the year, you definitely should have known what Gakuen's prize jewel looked like."

Feliks sighed.

"Unfortunately, what's done is done. We don't have a fucking time machine, nor the time or materials to invent one. So, if you still want to go to the S.T.E.A.M. lab for help, you're going to have to fucking get on your hands and knees, apologize, and hope and pray that she forgives you. Well? What's it gonna be? You gonna suck up and apologize, or you going to do this on your own and probably fail?"

Arthur internally winced.

"Well?"

He sighed, mumbling something.

". . . 'm g'na 'polo'ze . . ."

"What was that? I couldn't hear you." Feliks almost sang, cupping his hand to his ear, a mischievous look in the corner of his eye. Say it louder, for the people in the back, the peanut gallery."

Arthur glared at his roommate.

"I'm going to apologize, you fucking dipshit."

* * *

A/N: Right! Update! In record time, considering my track record. Fun to write, this was.

... sooooo, you got a lot of information this chapter. Consider this my way of telling you pretty much all you need to know about Amelia and Matthew for now, without actually telling you myself.

This story takes place in America. I felt the need to clarify that. Gakuen is an academy mostly made up of foreign exchange students, however.

Reviews! Please review! just. . . Please review. The feedback seriously helps.


	3. Chapter 3

Thank you to Ashollow for reviewing!

* * *

 **The S.T.E.A.M. Team**

 _Chapter 3_

* * *

Amelia pounded the punching bag with her fists, ignoring how her sleeve kept on riding up. She was frustrated. Absolutely fucking frustrated. And maybe a bit hurt. Maybe a bit of that too.

Screaming in frustration, she punched the punching bag one last time, knocking it off its axis and sending it flying all the way across the room. She stood there for a full minute, panting, before someone spoke up behind her.

"Angry?"

Spinning around, she came face-to-face with her twin brother, his eyes crinkling with amusement but also concern. She sighed.

"No, Mattie, I just so happened to be so happy and enthusiastic that I fucking punched the goddamn punching bag so hard that I broke its damn chain and sent it flying across the fucking room."

Matthew looked at her, his expression blank.

"That sounds like something you'd actually do."

Amelia groaned and dropped her face into her hands. "It actually does..."

"Look..." Mattie sighed, clasping her shoulder. "I came here to tell you that you have raged on and on and on for hours now. It is 11:13 at night. You have kept poor ol' Jocelyn up far past her bedtime, and she's genuinely concerned as to what in the world could've pissed you off this much. You have successfully succeeded in driving Gilbert, Francis, and Antonio away, something that amazes me considering how they have created much more ungodly amounts of noise before that they'd been able to stand. You have given Lovino a migraine, forcing him to need to leave early for the day, and have driven Diana and Natalya into hiding god-only-knows-where in an attempt to finish their work in peace and quiet before they leave. Are you done beating up that poor punching bag and ready to talk now?"

Amelia turned away from her brother and started unwrapping her wrist-guards. Matthew waited calmly, tapping his foot lightly on the ground.

"Well?"

"I offered to help some British asshole with his homework."

"And?"

"He called me a number of very rude things that I'd rather not repeat."

"You just dashed your lovely speech earlier with innumerable amounts of colorful additives and profanities, and yet now you're hesitant to repeat what some asshole told you earlier?"

She spun on her heel, turning to glare at her brother.

"Mr. Passive-Aggressive, maybe I refuse to repeat it not because it contains colorful adjectives that would make Jocelyn's ears bleed, but because it sorely hurt my feelings and I'd rather not relive what he said to me."

Matthew's faces visibly softened.

"Amelia..."

She turned around again, stuffing her guards into a bag.

"Stop it. I don't want your pity."

"Was he the reason why you slammed the front door on the young man who stopped at our gate?"

"Maybe. Yes."

"Are you to angry to construct a robot and then brutally deconstruct it?"

Her face brightened considerably.

"Please?"

Matthew laughed.

"Firstly, you need to find Natalya and Diana, our _lovely,_ _patient_ interns, and apologize to them, call Lovino, our third _lovely_ intern that you afflicted with a headache and apologize to him, call Francis, Antonio, and Gilbert, and apologize to them, and lastly, apologize to Jocelyn for keeping her up and put her to bed, because, _darling sister_ , in case you have forgotten, it's your turn to do so. Then we can construct a few lovely specimens of robots and AI that you can enact your darkest desires of anger upon and decimate them to your heart's content."

Amelia stared at her brother, annoyed now.

"You know, sometimes I really do hate you."

Matthew laughed cheerfully. "I know."

* * *

A/N: Update! Again! I might update again today if I have the time. But I'm somewhat in pain today because I had an orthodontist appointment, so a second update today isn't guaranteed.

To address a reviewer's question that I deemed important enough to address secondly here: Currently, I am not planning for there to be romantic UsUk. Definitely platonic UsUk, but I can't verify any romantic UsUk's possible existence in this story.

However, **HOWEVER** , because I do not have any actual layout for how exactly this will go other than the basic idea that I have for this story, I can accommodate some eventual, slow-burning romance in here. Do you guys want any romantic UsUk? Please let me know, because it's better that I start planning for this earlier than later. I must warn you, though, if I do include any sort of romance, it will not be the main focus of this story. It will definitely be there, but just won't be in the direct spotlight. Like maybe how typically the main character has a sidekick? That would probably be any type of romance's place here. Does that make any sort of sense? Here's to hoping that it does! Cheers!

Jocelyn is Nyo! Molossia. For the sake of this story, I aged her down into a five-year-old. Her exact relation to Amelia and Matthew will be revealed later, but I can tell you for now that she lives with them. Her full name is Jocelyn Quinn Jones.

Also, like said, France, Spain, and Prussia work at the lab and Belarus, Nyo! Lithuania, and Romano work as part-time interns here. While France, Spain, and Prussia aren't actually interns, they do help out a lot and work part-time at the lab because they are friends with America and Canada. If you couldn't guess, Francis is France, Antonio is Spain, Gilbert is Prussia, Natalya is Belarus, Diana is Nyo! Lithuania, and Lovino is Romano. The reason why I picked France, Antonio, and Spain to help out at the lab is because they helped America during the Revolution and the reason why I picked Belarus, Lithuania, and Romano to work as part-time interns is because they all lived with America at some point. At least, I think that Romano lived with America at one point. I read somewhere once that he lived with her during the Industrial Revolution? I might be completely wrong here, but either way, he works as an intern at the lab and is there to stay.


	4. Chapter 4

Thank you to those of you who have favorited/followed!

* * *

 **The S.T.E.A.M. Team**

 _Chapter 4_

* * *

Arthur tried not to flinch as Diana stared him down, clearly annoyed. He was in the S.T.E.A.M. Lab, wondering just how he had gotten into this mess. After Feliks had finished lecturing him yesterday, something that Arthur would never have expected of the Pole, Feliks had texted Diana and coaxed her into helping Arthur. Diana was reluctant to have anything to do with him, having heard of the occurrence between Arthur and Amelia, but had rather grudgingly agreed when Feliks promised that Arthur would apologize as soon as he'd get the chance and brought up the fact that she did owe him a favor.

The next day, after his classes had wrapped up, Arthur had made his way over to the S.T.E.A.M. Lab. Diana had adversely unlocked the doors for Arthur, and after threatening him, had dragged him to the workplace, stating that Amelia and Matthew weren't there right then because they had something to deal with but would be there soon. Plopping down, she'd held her hand out for Arthur's textbooks rather expectantly, which brought them to now, with Diana inspecting Arthur's material and passive-aggressively making rude remarks when the occasion would strike. She clearly was still upset that Arthur had hurt her friend.

". . . So, tell me why you chose to study this bullshit?"

Arthur deflated a little. "For the same reasons that you're studying Science Technology, Chemical Technology, and Nuclear Technology. Because it fascinates me. Unfortunately, my teachers decided to assign everyone in my class individually to design and construct a machine that is fully functional and serves an actual helpful purpose."

Diana hm-hmed under her breath, nodding to herself as she flipped between the pages of the textbook, alternating her gaze between the actual writing and Arthur's notes and scribbles for his project. "And your idea for you project is?"

"I know it's stupid, but I wanted to create a kind of robotic technology that could control or supervise AI serving various purposes. The idea of it was that it could serve as a kind of master controller to lesser-compotent AI, keeping it from malfunctioning or quickly sending off an alert if something were to malfunction. God, it sounded better in my head-"

Diana interrupted him, placing her hand over his mouth. "No, it's not necessarily a bad idea. It could be useful in hospitals or laboratories or just places containing machinery that could backfire. But..." she glanced at Arthur. "What would this look like?"

Arthur shifted on his feet, growing increasingly uncomfortable. "It would be a chip, maybe the size of a flash drive. You could plug it directly into a machine or into an adaptor that would connect the two, and would function that way."

Diana's lips twitched.

"Like a parasite."

"No!" Arthur shook his head. "Well, kind of... but not in a bad sense."

Diana turned away from him. "Now, here's the problem, _buddy_. If you haven't noticed, the stuff that I'm studying... it's not the same stuff that you're working on. And no matter how much extra knowledge that I've picked up from the guys around here, I'm not going to be able to help you as much with this shit."

Arthur groaned, and Diana took it as a sign to continue on.

"Mr. Antonio is studying Mathematics, Statistics, and Architectural Engineering. Mr. Francis is studying Textile Sciences and Engineering as well as Materials Engineering. Mr. Gilbert is studying Computer Engineering Technology and is studying history on the side. Mr. Lovino is studying Applied Mathematics, Computational Mathematics, and Geometry. I'm studying Science Technology, Chemical Technology, and Nuclear Technology. Ms. Natalya is studying Astronomy and Astrophysics. Look, between all of the people who work here, currently, the best option you've got for help is probably Mr. Gilbert. But even then, he isn't even really the best option because that title goes to-"

Arthur cut Diana off.

"Amelia Jones and Matthew Williams."

She glared at him for a minute, before returning to flipping over his work. "Yes, they would probably be the best options for you. Seeing how both of them did take courses that are closer aligned in your interests. Besides, the Ms. Amelia and Mr. Matthew have picked up a lot since their college days, so they probably know even more about any of this than we do. Unfortunately,-"

Arthur cut Diana off again.

"I opened my mouth and insulted Jones after she offered to help me, stopping the growth of any possible seedling of mercy for me, and now I owe her an apology as soon as she gets here-"

"And she's here right now."

Amelia Jones stood, leaning against the archway leading into the room that Arthur and Diana were in, looking very, very, very unhappy with what she had arrived to.

* * *

A/N: Okay, so something that is probably important enough to note right now: I am taking liberties with this story as to how this college is functioning. The college part of it isn't the focus, and is meant to serve as the setting and the reason why Arthur has to come up with and build this machine of this. It serves as the motivation and the setting, but is not the focus.

In case you're wondering, the reason why Lithuania is referring to the other people who work in the lab as Ms. or Mr., it's because I picture her being pretty formal, and typically, she doesn't curse. She was cursing a little and being a little stand-offish towards Arthur because she doesn't care for him after he hurt America. However, when she calls him by his actual name, it will be in a formal state because she does like to retain that formality.

Arthur is referring to America as Jones, Ms. Jones, or Amelia Jones here because he doesn't really have permission to just call her by her first name, and he was in front of Lithuania when he was mentioning her. Eventually, you will probably see him referring to America as just Amelia, but that is not right now.

Please review! I really need to know any thoughts or opinions on this chapter. I mentioned this last time, but if you want this to include any romantic UsUk, please let me know in a review or a PM. It'll be easier to change the ideas that I have for this storyline earlier on than later.

So, school resumes tomorrow. And guess what that means! It means that, knowing me, it'll probably be a good long while before I have the time or will to write again! I duly apologize in advance for any ungodly long wait times. Here's to hoping that that prediction doesn't happen.


	5. Chapter 5

Thanks to Dalek-caan19 for reviewing!

* * *

 **The S.T.E.A.M Team**

 _Chapter 5_

* * *

Amelia Jones stood, leaning against the archway leading into the workspace, looking very, very, very unhappy with what her eyes beheld.

Diana instantly straightened, dropping the textbook onto the table with a bang, and greeted Amelia happily.

"Ms. Amelia! I was wondering when you'd come! If I might ask, however, where is Mr. Matthew and Ms. Jocelyn?"

Amelia's eyes flickered from Arthur, where they had previously laid upon unhappily, to Diana's bright face.

"Matthew's out. He needed to pick up a few supplies, and Jocelyn happily declared that she wanted to tag along, leaving me to come here. And don't you think that I missed those honorifics that you threw in front of our names, Diana. How many times do I need to tell you, we're friends. There is no need for you to use honorifics when you say our names. Seriously, if we're talking by age, you're technically our senior. If anything, we should be the ones utilizing those honorifics, hmm?"

Diana shifted, folding her hands behind her back.

"And technically I'm your intern..."

Amelia cracked a small smile and sighed.

"Is Gilbert, Antonio, Francis, Natalya, and Lovino here yet?"

Diana nodded. "Mr. Gilbert is huddled up in front of some computer screen, I think drafting a scale for some atomic structure. Mr. Antonio was with him, last time I saw, and was helping him with the mathematical part of that. Mr. Francis was crafting last I checked, working on assembling some structure that Mr. Matthew asked for. And Ms. Natalya was working with Mr. Lovino on finalizing that diagram of a black hole that they started working on for you a few weeks ago, speaking of which, I think they're almost done."

Amelia nodded thoughtfully, before sweeping her hand around to point at Arthur.

"And why the fuck is he here? I recall hearing the two of you talking about me being his best bet for some sort of project?"

Diana shifted again, adjusting her posture, before shooting Arthur a glare.

"Feliks pulled in a favor or two. I didn't necessarily _want_ to help, but Feliks promised that Mr. Arthur here," Diana swept her hand, gesturing towards the man, "would apologize."

A flicker of something flashed across Amelia's face. Shock? Annoyance? Frustration?

The hint of a possibly orchestrated murder?

Extending a sharp-nailed hand, Amelia reached out and grabbed Arthur by the collar and turned around, starting towards her office despite his balking protests.

"Come. We need to have a talk."

Considering something for a minute and pausing, she turned around for a second to face Diana.

"Oh, and bring those textbooks, too? We'll probably need those."

* * *

A/N: I'm sorry this was such a short update! I wanted to write something while the work load wasn't too harsh, but I don't have the time for anything too long-winded at the present moment. Sorry again!

I ended up posting a poll on my profile on whether or not there should be any romantic USUK in this. Please check it out!

If you can't tell, Amelia finds it slightly annoying that Lithuania is so formal. She feels that the formalities and honorifics really aren't necessary because technically, Lithuania is her senior, but Lithuania counters that logic with the fact that technically, she works for Amelia. Amelia typically fires right back with the fact that she considers Lithuania to be her friend, and that formalities _seriously_ aren't needed, and the battle of logic continues on and on. It's turned into somewhat of a game for them, seeing who long they can hold out with the battle of logic.

However, Lithuania not using an honorific before Poland's name _was_ intentional. We'll find out exactly why later.

Please remember to review! The feedback means a lot to me.


	6. Chapter 6

Thank you to Cone of Depression for reviewing!

* * *

 **The S.T.E.A.M. Team**

 _Chapter 6_

* * *

Arthur tried not to shift uncomfortably as he felt Amelia's cold, reigning stare glare down upon him, like a not-so-shining, displeased beam of acidic rain from the raging heavens. Instead, he diverted his attention to Amelia's office.

Amelia's office was somewhat neater than he had expected, but at the same time maintained an aura of intentional mess, the kind where to the untrained eye, it was a pig stye, but to the creator, it was neat and in order. Bookshelves with books ranging from atomic theory to statistics lined the walls, and blueprints, designs, and photos of previous projects lined the wall space left unclaimed by the bookshelves. Intricate, framed Lichtenberg figures set on wood took up a few feet on one wall. A few bookcases, dedicated not to books but to small instruments of science as well as minor projects decorated one wall. A small, currently-still wave pendulum model lay on one end of the bookcase, and on the other end, a Chinese-Spouting Resonance Bowl lay empty. Random models of atom, molecule, and microbe structures lay scattered throughout the room, and as Amelia purposefully picked one, up, Arthur was struck with the realization that she was trying on purpose to make him as uncomfortable as humanly possible.

Redirecting his attention, he looked towards Amelia's desk. Various plots, graphs, and designs that one could only dream of creating lay neatly and undisturbed, clearly hinting towards a later project of great significance. A framed photo lay on the desk, featuring the smiling members working at the S.T.E.A.M. Laboratory, standing in front of the pristine building from the outside. Arm in arm, the faces of Amelia Jones, Matthew Williams, Francis Bonnefoy, Gilbert Beilschmidt, Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo, Diana Laurinaitis, Lovino Vargas, and Natalya Arlovskaya looked up at him, smiling brightly. A smaller, also-framed picture lay beside it, featuring Amelia and her brother, her arm slung around his waist, and a little, smily, brown-haired girl perched on Matthew's shoulders, peeking out at the camera shyly.

Setting the model down, Amelia stepped forward to pick up the picture of her, her brother, and the smiling little girl, and inspected it intently, almost smiling faintly to herself.

Arthur frowned to himself.

"Is that... your daughter?"

Diana, who was setting Arthur's textbooks and plans down on Amelia's desk, choked mid-step, plunked the textbooks down heavily, and proceeded to cough harshly into her sleeve, clearly shocked but slightly amused at the idea. Amelia glanced back at Diana.

"You okay?"

"Yes. Just slightly startled."

Amelia looked back to Arthur, clearly annoyed.

"I'm twenty-fucking-one. Do I look old enough to be a mother? Have I suddenly aged without my knowledge?"

"No, but-"

"For the fucking record, you fucking dipshit, she's my niece. Her name's Jocelyn Quinn Jones, and she lives with us because Mattie and I have legal guardianship over her."

Arthur frowned. "Why?"

Amelia shot him a stare that was, if possible, even more piercing than the ones that she shot at him earlier. "She's an orphan. Her parents died in a car accident when she was two, and because we were her only living relatives, she came to live with us. She's five now and an absolute genius for her age, and we're homeschooling her." There was a note of affection in her voice, but one that was vaguely overshadowed by her growing annoyance at the man she regarded a parasite in her office.

Diana softly spoke, almost wearily. "I think her being smart is a given, Miss, considering how it seems to run in your family."

If he wasn't before, now Arthur felt even more uncomfortable and awkward. Amelia, seemingly satisfied with how uncomfortable that he was, took that opportunity to speak. he carefully scanned him from his shoes up, clearly judging every aspect of him.

"So, why the fuck are you here? I distinctly remember a project being mentioned, and my name and the mention of a promised apology somehow being entangled in the equation. Perhaps it's best we untangle it, _yes_?"

Arthur visibly winced, and mumbled under his breath. Diana shuffled to the other side of the room, where she picked up a new diagram, inspecting it. Amelia shifted expectingly.

" _Well_?"

"I might have a project that I might need help with."

Amelia nodded almost empathetically, in a way completely lacking all sense of empathy for the man.

"Help that I offered earlier, and was so rudely rejected."

Arthur winced again, his cheeks burning with shame.

"Yes."

"Do you see how this might serve as a problem that might hinder any possible want of mine to help you?"

"Also yes."

"Then you perfectly understand the fact that I could reject this request right now, have someone escort you out, and bar you from the premises, leaving you to figure this out on your own?

" . . . "

"I asked you a question. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Good. And..."

"I owe you an apology."

Amelia Jones looked to him expectantly, waving her hand in a circle to egg him on."

"And?"

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what? When you're an adult, you need to be specific. For all I know, you could be apologizing for your atrocious eyebrows and lack of knowledge of how to maintain them properly."

Arthur choked on air and Diana snorted in laughter in unison.

Cheeks flaming red, his shoes and the floor starting to look incredibly interesting, he mumbled an apology.

"Okay, don't look at the fucking ground while you do it. That's just common sense. My eyes are up here, buddy. Now, say that dreaded apology loudly enough for everyone in this facility to hear, mmkay?"

Arthur looked up from his shoes, looked a very amused Amelia Jones in the eye, and exploded.

"Look, I'm fucking bloody sorry, okay? I judged you wrong. I let my frustration at being interrupted studying get the best of me. I'm fucking sorry! What bloody-else do fucking expect of me?"

Amelia looked at him curiously for a full minute, leading to two, to three, to four.

"Okay. Whatever." Turning her back from him, she turned to look at the graph that Diana was analyzing.

Arthur stared at her in disbelief.

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?"

"What?"

Amelia didn't even bother to turn her head to face him.

"I just apologized to you, and that's all you bloody say? 'Okay. Whatever.' How bleeding anti-climatic are you?"

"To be fair, the climax can be incredibly boring, especially if the people hiking it are as bland and boring of a douche-nozzle as you are."

Arthur swallowed the growing lump in the back of his throat. "Now that's rude."

"Hmmm. You think I give a damn?"

"I want your help."

"Hmmm."

"I shall restate myself again: I want your help."

"Hmmm. Is that so."

"Yes. I want your fucking help, you insufferable asshole."

Amelia, looked up at him, amused. "So why the fuck are you still rambling on for? Present your fucking idea. If its shit, out you go until you can come up with a better one. If it's half decent, then I'll send you off one your merry way to meet upon another day when I don't have work to do. Hey, that rhymed."

Arthur stared at Amelia, gap-mouthed.

She stared at him. "Or you can continue standing there like a fish out of water with nothing to say. You know, I have things to do, and you're a rather insignificant part of my already-busy enough schedule. If you have nothing to say, please do leave so I can get my work done, and stop wasting my time."

Arthur shook his head, forcing himself out of his daze. "Right. So, my idea for my project was..."

* * *

A/N: Oh, passive-aggressive Amelia. Ever so torturous to good ol' Arthur. Sciencey notes time!

Lichtenberg figures, also known as Lichtenberg dust figures, are branching electrical discharges that can appear on surfaces or interiors of insulating materials. Humans can get them if struck by enough voltages of lightning, and if you hit wood with enough of a voltage, you can leave Lichtenberg figures. My science teacher actually has done this in his spare time, and has framed pieces of wood that he struck with high voltages and added wood finishing to.

A pendulum is one of those things that ricochets back and forth when you have one of the marbles hit another one. I'm terrible at describing it, so if you're still curious, look it up. You'll get a much better description as well as photos that way.

A Chinese-Spouting Resonance Bowl, also known as just a Resonance Bowl, is an old piece of Chinese technology dating back to the Han dynasty, if I remember correctly. Anyway, it demonstrates standing waves.

I wasn't expecting to be able to get a chapter out today, but I just went to an actual S.T.E.A.M. fair as a part of its press core and now I'm inspired. You might get another chapter out of me while I still am, but that might not be as likely as I'd hope because I have to write an article on what I reported on as a part of the press core. So no guarantees.

I have a poll up on the platonic or romantic USUK issue on my profile. Please check it out! And if you have suggestions regarding it, please either PM me or leave them in the reviews, speaking of which, please remember to review! *puppy eyes* I love reading them, and I try to answer them!


	7. Chapter 7

Thanks to Cone of Depression and to the two guests for reviewing!

* * *

 **The S.T.E.A.M. Team**

 _Chapter 7_

* * *

Arthur watched the giggling child carefully as she played with the sand in the Augmented Reality Sandbox, consistently letting out a happy peal of laughter as the projector changed its display to accomodate the new mounds representing hills and the new depressions representing newly formed lakes. Jocelyn waved her hand over the sandbox, watching as the projection changed again to simulate rainfall over the area which then slowly dribbled into the depression. The colorful elevation map was consistantly changing as Jocelyn played with it, cleanly displaying its topographical contour lines in areas where the sand was smoothly patted down.

It was a pretty decent idea, Arthur presumed, to have this in order to teach Jocelyn about landscape change and hydrology in a fun way that would appeal to her and be interesting at the same time.

He winced as Jocelyn unknowingly flicked sand into this eye, blinking quickly as it watered.

Then there was that.

Arthur shot a look to the occupant of the table a few feet away, typing furiously into the computer.

"Why is it me who needs to look after _her_?"

"Huh?" Diana looked up at Arthur, blinking confusedly for a minute. From the corner of the room, Gilbert looked up from his own computer to stare amusedly at Arthur. Diana sat there, blinking in confusion. "Sorry, what did you say? I didn't happen to catch that."

Gilbert intervened, looking pointedly at Arthur.

"He asked why he was the one who needed to look after little Quinny over there." Hearing her nickname, Jocelyn looked up at Gilbert and giggled again. Gilbert wiggled his fingers at her playfully, and Jocelyn reciprocated the gesture before going back to happily sculpting her sand.

"And to answer that," Gilbert continued, "we have a little unmentioned policy here that goes something along the lines of 'We help you, you help us.' And frankly, _frankly_ , most of us have work to do. If you haven't noticed, Franny's off crafting God only knows where, 'Toni's probably annoying slash helping Lovi somewhere, Natalya's off polishing some project off, and 'Melia and Mattie are off working on _your_ project, which for some reason _you_ aren't working on, ja?" The Prussian man looked to Arthur expectantly, who's ears flushed.

"They wouldn't let me help them, they said that they needed to review my idea and make sure it's actualy accomplishable-"

"Ah, ah, ah, ah-" Gilbert wiggled his eyebrows at Arthur, "I don't want to hear it, _arschloch_."

The last word almost sounded affectionate, but despite Arthur not knowing what it meant, he had a strong feeling that it meant something along the lines of asshole or prick.

"As I was saying before as you're the only one not doing any actual work, you are the one who makes sure that Quinny over there doesn't make too much of a mess, isn't that right, Quinny?" Gilbert polished off his statement from eariler, a note of real affection smothering the last few words.

Jocelyn turned around again, nodding enthusiastically, her bright-to-the-point-of-almost-being-blinding clothing twirling with her as she spun on her heel which clicked against the ground.

Gilbert winked at her.

"Yep! The English bastard has to look after me!"

Gilbert pitched forward, wheezing-laughing in almost an over-the-top display of amusement. Diana choked on the drink that she was drinking _(coffee? tea? water?)_ , plopping the mug down immediately and turning to cough into her sleeve. Arthur pursed his lips and swallowed.

"Ms. Jocelyn!" Diana finished her coughing spree and turned to the little girl, her eyes watering as she gave off one last, feeble cough.

"Where did you learn that word?"

Jocelyn placed her hands on her hips and looked up almost defiantly in a cute display of rebellion.

"I heard Lovi call 'Toni it, an' I thought it was fitting for Mr. Arthur, Ms. Diana!"

Gilbert pitched foward laughing again as a voice spoke dryly from the top of the stairwell leading into the upstairs space.

"Jocie, darling, I sincerly wouldn't recommend repeating anything that comes out of Lovino's mouth, especially when he's angry or talking to Antonio. One or the other." Natalya peered down at the scene below, leaning against the bannister as she critically analyzed the situation.

Jocelyn's face fell into a disappointed pout.

"So I can't call 'im an English bastard?"

Natalya faintly hid a grin behind her hand.

"Oh, you most sincerely can, just make sure that there's an audiance to witness your lovely sense of grammar!" Gilbert started laughing again, but Natalya sent him a deadly, distasteful glare worthy of only the most pissed-off of people.

"And you," she looked him dead in the eye, "if _I_ have to hear that wheezy, deranged, dying squirrel-on-crack laugh of yours again, I will gladly make you a noose and hang you from this balcony, and don't you doubt that I would do it."

Gilbert gulped and nodded. "Ja."

"Have you finished the base for the V.R. Analyzer, Natalya?" Diana spoke hopefully, clearly trying to distort the conversation and set it on a slightly more child-friendly path.

Natalya nodded, her blonde hair swishing and falling in her face before she reached back to pull it up into a messy ponytail. "Yes. The base-model for it is complete, and now once Mr. I'm-Too-Slow-For-My-Own-Good finishes what he's working on now, it's ready for him to program." She sent a pointed look at Gilbert, who made a face.

"Yeah, yeah. So what if I'm slow? At least my work is quality unlike someone that I know's, hm, let me think, who would that be?" Gilbert tapped on the side of his head meaningfully, pantomiming someone in deep thought. "I know! It would be Ms. High-And-Mighty over there, high up on her pedastal!"

The sound of Natalya's knuckles cracking resonated through the room as a calm, serene look came over her face, accoompanying the inklings of a murderous smile.

Was her eye twitching?

"You have ten seconds to run."

"What?"

"You have ten seconds to run. Ten."

Gilbert slowly got off of his chair.

"Nine."

Gilbert stepped away from his computer.

"Eight."

Gilbert started walking backwards.

"Two."

"What happened to numbers 7-3?"

Natalya only smiled. What was that sharp flash of something coming from her laboratory coat pocket? "Run, bitch, run."

Gilbert shot a panicky look at Diana, who shrugged. "You're on your own."

"One."

Gilbert bolted out of the room like a bat out of hell, Natalya hot on his heels, a sharp silver flash of something gripped firmly in her hand.

As they fled, Amelia and Matthew stepped into the room, carrying bundles of papers.

"Did Natalya just chase Gilbert out of the room with one or more of her knives?"

Diana rolled her shoulders backwards, stretching them as she send them a what-do-you-expect look.

Jocelyn, whose attention had reverted back to her sandbox some time ago, was making "vroom" noises as she walked her fingers across the rough matter.

Arthur just stood there.

* * *

A/N: A decent-length chapter at some ungodly hour of the night. Does anyone know if there's any stores that currently carry 'healthy sleeping patterns' in stock?

If you didn't notice, Prussia referred to Molossia as Quinny while Belarus referred to her as Jocie. You'll see plenty of variations of her first and middle names that serve as people's nicknames for her in this story. So yeah. Those are on purpose. I promise you that those aren't typos.

The Augmented Reality Sandbox was based off of a real one that I got to see at a S.T.E.A.M. fair. Yes, this thing is real. It was first developed at UCLA, and real sandboxes like this one use an overhead projector to turn a sandbox into an interactive topographic map so that when people manipulate the sand, their hills and depressions translate into contour lines and colored elevation levels. When a user hovers their hand over the sandbox, it translates as a cloud and virtual rain pours onto the landscape where your hand is hovering about, which creates channels and pools into the depressions. They're very cool to look at.

Please remember to check out the poll in my profile about romantic/platonic USUK and to review~


	8. Chapter 8

Thank you to Cone of Depression and 2 lazy 2 login for reviewing!

* * *

 **The S.T.E.A.M. Team**

 _Chapter 8_

* * *

Arthur stared up at the ceiling from his bed. After Amelia and Matthew had come out of their office, witnessed the general pandemonium, and had seperated Natalya from Gilbert with the help of Diana, preventing potential murder, they had dismissed Arthur and sent him back to his dorm. He sighed.

It had been days since he had apologized to Amelia. After apologizing and explaining what his idea for his project was, she had sent him back to his dorm so that she could review his notes after they had exchanged numbers "strictly for communication purposes." After his classes the next day, she had sent him a message asking for him to come to the laboratories, where he was reluctantly introduced to the rest of the S.T.E.A.M. staff and told to look after Jocelyn while Amelia and Matthew reviewed the notes for his project some more, afterwards promising to call him over if the need arose.

Well, the need clearly hadn't arisen, so here he was.

Feliks sat beside him, tapping on his phone impatiently, his long nails making drawn-out clicking sounds as they hit the screen one after the other.

 _Tap._

 _Tap._

 _Tap._

"Can you cut that out?"

"Like, cut what out?" Feliks spared Arthur a stare before returning his attention to his phone screen. "You could be referencing sooooo many things. Be specific, darling."

Arthur shot his roommate an annoyed stare. "The tapping noise. What are you doing, anyway? Are you texting somebody?" He made a move as to look over Felik's shoulder to peer at his screen as Feliks withdrew, clutching his phone to his chest.

"No! Don't look!"

What was he doing? "What are you doing them?" Arthur responded sarcastically, raising an eyebrow. "Planning to pluck my eyebrows in my sleep with a friend of yours?"

"No," Feliks muttered, "although they do need to be plucked." He spared Arthur a raised eyebrow of his own.

"Do you want them plucked?

"No!" Arthur withdrew, leaning backwards. "No, I most certainly do not. I was just... sarcastically responding to your lac of specific response. What are you doing?"

Feliks looked up from his phone screen to meet Arthur's gaze. "I'm texting Diana. We're planning to meet up sometime for a date or something like that."

Arthur internally choked and stared wonderingly at his friend. "You two are dating? Since when?"

"No, no!" Feliks waved his hands, the one clutching the phone accidentally letting go of it, causing it to fly across the room onto the carpeted section of the floor. Arthur fell back laughing, while Feliks with a squeak made off to go and retrieve it.

"Arthur! This isn't funny!" Feliks wailed as he inspected the phone for any damage. Arthur continued laughing, and Feliks grabbed a stressball and pelted it at his friend's head. Arthur attempted to dodge the object but failed, and it beaned him in the head. Wiping tears from his eyes, Arthur responded.

"Okay. I deserved that." He looked up to Feliks, who was still inspecting his phone. "Is it okay?"

"Mostly. My case is protective, and it landed on the carpet, which dealt less damage than the hardwood part of the floor would've. And to answer your earlier question," Feliks continued, "Diana and I are not dating as of right now. It's not a date."

"Then why did you refer to it as one."

"I did not directly refer to it as a date."

"Yes, you most certainly did. I distinctly recall you referring to it as such."

"No, I did not. I referred to it as 'a date or something like that.' Not expressly a date."

"Mmhmm. Sure. Whatever you say, buddy."

Feliks glared at Arthur. "For the record, a date doesn't necessarily mean that it's a romantic meeting. It can refer to a get-together or a meet-up."

"You do realize that the way that you're so expressly defending your point of view kind of further convinces me of the opposite point that you're trying to make?"

Feliks threw his hands into the air, exasperated.

"You're _blushing_." Arthur purposefully emphasized the lone two syllables in the verb to make it sound like an obnoxious three-year-old was pronouncing the word.

Feliks pelted one of his many throw pillows at Arthur.

. . .

Amelia groaned as her head plunked onto the table, exhausted. She shoved the newest completed bout of paperwork to the corner of her desk, completely and totally done with the amount of work that had piled up over the past few days. Standing up and stretching, she winced as her back and neck loudly cracked. Diana, sitting and texting on her phone in the chair in Amelia's office, looked up at the noise.

"Ouch. That sounds like it hurt."

Amelia shrugged. "Eh. Just sore. Who're you texting?"

"Feliks." Diana set her phone in her pocket. Amelia decided to let the conversation drop as it was clear that she'd get no information out of her friend other than that.

Amelia's phone buzzed, and she glared distastefully at it before shutting it off.

"And who was that?"

"Braginski."

Diana visibly winced. "Is he bugging you again?"

"What do you think? He doesn't seem to pick up the hint despite the fact that I've literally blocked his number. I've practically given up on the reliability of my phone's ability to block certain numbers at this point. How he manages to unblock the damn thing, I'll probably never know, but I have a sinking feeling that it might have something to do with Lien."

"Ah," Diana nodded. "So, what's it about this time?"

"This time?" Amelia spared a glance at her friend. "Oh, same thing as always. It's relating to that collaboration that's constantly being spoken about but never takes off because one of our respective labs is always busy when the other has the time to work on it. This time, Braginski and Yao are pretty serious about getting off their asses and actually doing some work relating to the project seeing as they now have the time, but like tradition and how it's played out in the past, work's picked up and I'm not sure if we're going to be able to help adequately. I've already told him that we don't have the adequate time right now to do our part, but he isn't really taking the hint."

"Hm. So it wasn't about-"

Purposefully changing the conversation, Amelia looked back at Diana and interrupted what she was saying.

"Hey, why was it that you and Natalya left their lab to work at ours?"

Diana looked up at Amelia, a note of concern in her eyes, before directing her attention to shuffling through papers.

"For me, it wasn't necessarily that I didn't like the enviornment there, it just was always too crowded and it felt like there was too many people. I prefer a smaller, more controlled enviornment. Besides, they had more than enough interns, and I didn't want to take more than I could give from there. Natalya decided to tag along with a similar sentiment in mind. I think she also wanted to avoid her brother. They got into some kind of fight? I don't know, you'd have to ask her for more details." She shot Amelia a look.

"Back to what I was asking you about before-"

Amelia stood up in a hurry, causing Diana to break off mid-sentence.

"Hey, I need to go check up in Jocelyn. Sorry!"

As she rushed out of the room, leaving Diana to sort through her papers, Diana sighed.

This again?

* * *

A/N: And it's winter break for me! You can probably expect more updates from me until it ends. Please check out the poll in my profile about the USUK thing and leave a review!


	9. Chapter 9

Thank you to Cone of Depression and LeParapluie for reviewing!

* * *

 **The S.T.E.A.M. Team**

 _Chapter 9_

* * *

Natalya shivered through her thin laboratory coat as she stood at the pier by the ocean. The wind whipped around her hair which seemingly defied all laws of gravity, and she shrunk into her spine and further shoved her hands into her pockets. She was honestly suprised that they weren't ripping at the seems by the amount of force that she was exterting on them. She regretted coming out here only in her lab coat, but this excusion wasn't exactly planned and she was only alterted to the meet-up through a text that she recieved thirty minutes ago.

Someone walked up behind Natalya and placed their hand on her shoulder. Teeth chattering, she turned around to face her brother.

"Hello, Ivan."

" _Privet_ , Natalya."

There was a silence, a pause, before Ivan spoke again with the faintest of smiles. "No longer as used to the cold as you were at home, _sestra_?"

Natalya socked him in the shoulder. "Not all of us are pure, invincible, cold-hearted icicles, Ivan. Besides, I'm literally just wearing this thin lab coat and under it a short-sleeved t-shirt and ratty old work jeans. I was not prepared to bring a jacket today, and I wasn't given enough notice of this little gathering ahead of time to go to my dorm and get one, asshole. Speaking of which, why did you text me to meet you here today? Is it about Katyusha?"

Ivan shook his head. " _Nyet_. Katya is fine, and so is everyone else at our lab." Annoyingly to Natalya, his Russian-laced speech still had a soothing element to it that reminded her of their childhood. She made a mental note to herself to attempt to eradicate that mental association later.

"Then why did you text me?" Natalya's voice was upset, frustrated. "I swear to God, Ivan, if you called me out here in the cold just to say something that you could've said over text, bloody murder will happen. Her hair flipped in her face as the ocean spray splattered her lab coat.

A storm was brewing.

How fitting.

Ivan sighed, running his left hand through his hair. " _Sestra_ , am I not allowed to desire to speak in person to my younger sister? Am I not allowed that liberty?" Natalya fixed him with a freezing glare, infuriated.

"You lost that privilege _years ago_ ," Natalya spat angrily. "Try again. And don't you dare waste my time. I left the laboratory you run alongside Yao to work for Amelia and Matthew for a goddamned good reason, _big brother_ , don't give me a new one to punch you in the face, _dipshit_. Her brother sent her a disappointed look and sighed yet again.

"Two years and you still haven't forgiven me," he replied sadly, clearly upset. Natalya refused to respond, looking out toward the ocean. Changing the conversation, Ivan went in a different direction.

"Formalities aside, I'm here to talk to you about the collaboration between the both of our laboratories." Natalya raised an eyebrow. Ivan took that as a sign to continue. "I've been texting Amelia about it but she hasn't been responding." His sister groaned loudly, resting her face in her hands. "So I came to you," he concluded.

Natalya shook her head. "Of course she didn't respond. First of all, she's blocked you. The only way you'd be able to text her is if Lien hacked her phone, something that you've had her do far too frequently for any of our likings. Second of all, she's been busy. She hasn't had the time to waste on replying to your stupid fucking texts. And third of all, she's your fucking _ex_. Of-fucking-course she didn't fucking respond. And speaking of which, why the fuck did you text her of all people? You and I both know that she's the least likely to respond to your texts out of everyone at our lab. Why the fuck haven't you been texting Matthew or Diana or Francis or Lovino or Antonio or Gilbert or even fucking _me_ for Christ's sakes." Natalya waved her hands around, gesturing wildly, frustrated.

"Maybe because I don't have-"

Natalya cut her brother off, a disgusted look on her face. "Ugh! Don't give me the, 'Oh, I don't have their phone numbers' bullshit, because you and I both know damn well that you have to have them, considering how much you've communicated with them in the past. Even if you didn't have their numbers, Yao definitely does because he's kept close contact with many of them, let alone the fact that many of the people working at your laboratory are friends or are at least work acquaintances wiith the people working at ours. Seriously, she's your fucking ex, you _asshat_. I don't know what cloud your head is dancing on, whether it be cloud nine or cloud douchebag, but she's done with you. Your relationship is over. Get that through your thick-ass head." Glaring up at her older brother, arms folded across her heaving chest, she stared her older brother down. Ivan was silent for a minute before his chest started heaving himself and he pitched forward _laughing_.

After laughing for a few minutes while his sister stared down at him, dumbfounded and silent, he stood up straight and wiped tears from his eyes.

"Well stated, _sestra_. Well said." Letting out one last chuckle, his posture completely straightened, he stared his sister down, meeting her gaze. Almost feeling threatened, Natalya shrunk her posture and clutched at her arms, but never lost her gaze. She spun around to face her car in the parking lot and started walking towards it.

" _Sestra_! Where are you going?"

She spun around again to face her brother, still walking, just backwards.

"To my car! I have to get back to work!"

"But what about the collaboration?"

She raised her hand to flip him off.

"I have _work_ , you dipshit. Besides, I hardly have enough rank to discuss this with you. Text _Matthew_ if you're serious about getting this fucking project off the ground, not _me_."

As she spun around to face her car, her keys jingling in hand, Ivan stared at her back and smiled before heading back to his own car. Softly, he spoke.

"Goodbye, s _estra."_

* * *

A/N: And we see another point of view! I typed this up at a friend's house when I was kind of in a rush, so I apologize for any grammar errors that I might have missed.

Please check out the poll on my profile regarding the issue of romantic/platonic USUK in this story, and please remember to review!


	10. Chapter 10

Thanks to Cone of Depression and to briana .schmidt1 for reviewing!

* * *

 **The S.T.E.A.M. Team**

 _Chapter 10_

* * *

Diana sat quietly at the table outside the coffee shop where she had agreed to meet Feliks. Anxiously stirring her coffee with her spoon, she stared down at it, waiting patiently for the loud Pole to show up. He was frequently late; she wasn't too surprised by this at all.

Minutes passed and she didn't touch her coffee as she waited. Murmurs arose around her as she ignored the remarks.

It was another thirty minutes before Feliks showed up, a messenger bag and binder in tow, panting.

"Sorry Diana this morning was, like, a total disaster, I needed to turn in some papers last minute but the professor wasn't at her office so I needed to track her down and then I ran into another professor who asked for my help in doing something and I couldn't exactly refuse him because-"

Diana plunked her head down on the table, cutting Feliks off before she looked up, annoyed.

"In case you've forgotten, you are a human and humans need to breathe to survive. Breathe."

Feliks took in an exaggerated breath of air before releasing it just as obnoxiously as Diana quietly rolled her eyes.

"Yes, Feliks?"

Feliks dropped the binder down onto the table, which rattled. Diana instinctively pulled her coffee away from the table so that it didn't spill and Feliks tried to steady it, groaning in frustration.

Once the table was steadied, Diana raised another eyebrow at her friend, waiting in anticipation.

"And that is?"

Feliks flipped open the binder and shoved it towards her. His voice dropped lower than it was before as he spoke nervously.

"Designs. Lots of 'em."

Diana flipped through the papers hastily put into page protectors, whistling lowly. "Geez. These are pretty good. Kind of like what I'd expect out of Francis or out of sometimes Natalya when she picks up a pencil. Maybe Kiku, but to my knowledge, he hasn't had the time for sketches like this as of late." She looked up at Feliks expectantly, who let out a low, nervous breath that he'd been holding.

"Why'd...?"

Feliks tapped his foot on the ground, looking up at the sky.

"I started taking design classes."

Diana looked at him curiously. "On campus or off campus?"

"Off campus, I guess. One of the art professors is teaching it, but it isn't a class that has school credit or offers grades or even is physically on the actual campus. He hosts it at some park nearby." He bit his lip before resuming speaking. "Anyway, I think I'm switching majors. I still want to study Journalism but I'm more interested in studying Apparel and Textile Design now than I was before. Thoughts?"

Diana shrugged. "I mean, if you want to, by all means, go for it, I guess. But it's the middle of the semester. Is now really the time?"

Feliks bit his lip again. "I mean, probably not. I'd have to actually look into it further. And if I were to do it I might hold off until the next semester but I'm not really sure if I'm actually going to go through with this." He stood up, stretching, before shouldering his messenger bag back over his shoulder.

"I gotta go. I have classes in a little bit and if I hold off any later before leaving I'm going to be late." Feliks gestured to the binder. "Diana, you can hold onto that for now?" His statement was voiced more as a question. "I don't want to carry anything else."

She finished her coffee, setting the cup down before standing up herself.

"Sure. I can drop it off at your dorm room later or something."

At that, Feliks gave her a wave and dashed off without a word, leaving Diana there with his large binder, which she stared at uncomprehendingly before sighing. She shouldered her own bag and picked up the binder before turning in the direction of the parking lot, muttering words of mild, affectionate annoyance all the way there.

. . .

Amelia hissed in annoyance as she transferred paperwork from one stack to another, sorting it out into seven different piles arranged in accordance with their subject and importance. Gilbert stood beside her, flicking through some of Arthur's designs and illegible notes per Amelia's request. From across the room, Antonio raised an eyebrow at the duo before sauntering over and parking himself in front of the desk, quickly scanning the papers on top before whistling.

"Dios mío, that handwriting is messy." Addressing Gilbert, he slightly turned and said, "I take it you're reviewing Arthur's notes and designs?"

Gilbert nodded in response.

"Ja. His handwriting is almost as bad as mine. Although to be fair, it is notes, and typically people write messily when it comes to notes, so his actual handwriting might be nice when he isn't writing notes."

Antonio nodded, barely paying attention to what Gilbert said as he was already scanning through what Amelia was doing. "And I take it that you're going through and sorting old paperwork?"

Amelia inclined her head, barely perceptibly. "Yep. The majority of this is old paperwork that never got filed and kept piling up, while some of it is paperwork that I still need to complete." She gestured to a much smaller pile on a stool beside her that Antonio hadn't noticed and took a swig of the cup of coffee beside her. "After sorting this, I need to file it, and then I need to complete the paperwork in that pile." Amelia pointed at the smaller stack of paperwork again.

"Do you want me to get Matthew?" Antonio glanced up at Amelia. "I've known you for years, and I can tell when you're tired. You've pulled, what, I'd guess three or four all-nighters by now? He could take over so you could get some sleep."

Gilbert quietly snorted and murmured to himself, "Yeah, knowing her, that's not going to happen."

Antonio fixed him with a piercing look that Gilbert didn't seem to notice.

Amelia now shook her head, slightly swaying on her feet and using the table to balance herself. "Nah. I'm good. This is only going to take another couple of hours, and _then_ I'll sleep.

Gilbert snorted again, but Antonio didn't bother paying him any attention.

Francis, who had just walked into the room, called out, "Amelia, listen to Antonio. You need sleep," as he went to go pick up a box filled to the brim with random fabrics, metals, plastics, and scrap materials.

She glanced up to meet his gaze, then slowly fixed it on Antonio before sighing.

"The genius who invented coffee didn't invent it just for shits and giggles, Francis, Antonio. I wouldn't worry about me. Besides, don't you two both have work to do?"

Francis left the room shaking his head, the box in tow as Antonio fixed Amelia with one last worried look.

"You sure? Emelina, I definitely don't think that..."

Amelia waved her hand, and Antonio quieted.

"Yep. I'm sure."

Gilbert glanced up at the two now, having finished flipping through Arthur's messy notes and designs and having scribbled messy notes of his own in the margins.

"Hey, can one of you two do me a favor and call Arthur to get him over here? I need'ta go over this with him."

* * *

A/N: Soooo. I'm sorry that it's been awhile since I've updated. Life's been a snowstorm of events lately that have kept me busy, so apologies for keeping you waiting. I'm trying to work on updates for other stories and I have other plots on the side that I've been working on for future projects. And school has been keeping me busy. So yeah. Sorry.

Emelina is a Spanish name related to the names Amelia and Emilia. In this case, Antonio's kind of using it as a worried nickname for Amelia.

Please check out the poll on my profile concerning romantic/platonic UsUk in this story if you haven't already, and please remember to review!


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